


Carrying a Tune

by SonjaJade



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Gen, Traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 14:03:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8288330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonjaJade/pseuds/SonjaJade
Summary: What started out as a kind gesture to soothe a scared little boy turns into a mantra that Roy carries with him until it’s time to pass it on.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Goes with my Whatever it Takes ‘verse, but you don’t have to read that to get this. The song in question is called “Abendsegen” from a German opera called “Hänsel und Gretel”. The English version is called “The Evening Prayer” and is what many of you may have heard if you owned the album “It’s a Small World” that was originally released by Disney in the 50’s (and rereleased many freaking times) and sung by the Vienna Boys Choir. This was the song from Germany.

When Roy was only five years old, his mother and father had been lynched in their small hometown outside New Optain.  The first weeks of his life with his Aunt Chris had been confusing and hard on him, and he fell into a pattern of barely sleeping until she’d been forced to deal with the issue.

He remembered how she’d come into his room, smoke swirling at the end of her painted lips and through her pinned hair, her silhouette looking stocky and irritated the way she stood glaring at him with her hands on her hips.  She’d shut the door quietly behind her, flipped her cigarette out the cracked window, then sat heavily down on the edge of his bed, her bejeweled hand coming to his cheek.  And then she did something he didn’t think she was capable of doing- she started singing to him.

The words were in the old language, something he heard his father speak when he was incredibly sad or angry, something he himself couldn’t understand but a handful of words.  He listened with great curiosity…  He’d never heard the old words sung before, and he didn’t even know his aunt could carry a tune.

 
    
    
      _
           “Abends, will ich schlafen gehn,
        
      _
    
    
    
      _
           Vierzehn Engel um mich stehn…”
        
      _
    

 

Her voice was smooth and even, despite being deep.  The tune was soothing and the pace was gentle.  Her breath reeked of cigarette smoke and scotch whiskey, but her voice lilted wonderfully and Roy felt himself unwinding and detangling inside.  Things that were bothering him began to fade into the night, and Aunt Chris just kept singing.

 
    
    
      _
           “Zweie, die mich weisen,
        
      _
    
    
    
      _
           Zu Himmels-Paradeisen.”
        
      _
    

 

The same verse over and over, the same gentle melody again and again…  He slipped into sleep without knowing it, and when he awoke in the morning he felt so much better.  He felt rested and relieved and renewed somehow.  That next night, she came and sung to him again.  And every night until he left for the Hawkeye house, she would give him at least one go of the song before going to get some rest herself.

When he was again in a new house with new people, he didn’t want to go to sleep.  For one, he was afraid if he so much as blinked too hard, the whole house would crumble on top of him.  For another, he was terrified of his master, who had all but promised death if he so much as laid an eye on his precious daughter (who was blonde and had these big gorgeous eyes and he might have noticed her backside a little before Master Hawkeye had belted him hard across the face).

When he climbed into his new bed and laid down to stare at the ceiling, all his fears jumped on him at once.  What if he wasn’t good enough?  What if he messed everything up because he couldn’t resist a glance at Miss Riza?  What if he was awful at alchemy after all? What if?

He tossed and turned, then finally sat up with his head in his hands.  After a moment, he took some deep breaths and began to hum that old worn tune.  It was really a lovely song, he’d found later after Chris had translated it for him.  It spoke of angels and how they were always guiding and protecting you in your sleep; that how no matter how alone you feel, you are never truly alone…

He still couldn’t hum it all completely- some notes were just out of his range.  But he found solace in the tradition of it before bed, and he felt himself relaxing enough to find some rest.  He carried that tune to the academy in his head, and on the battlefield at night when his guilt threatened to crush him.

Roy grinned.  Over the years that old lullabye had really saved him, and now it was saving not only him, but a special little girl as well. 

The baby in his arms wasn’t crying anymore, but she was certainly not sleepy.  And Roy felt that at 3:26 am, she better get to feeling sleepy pretty damn quick.  “Alright Lily, this is a guaranteed ticket to the land of nod.”  He took a breath and began, this time singing the lyrics in Amestrian.  His voice was finally deep enough to hit all the notes, and he watched with amazement as his daughter seemed to listen intently before snuggling into his chest and sneaking a thumb into her mouth.  By the third round, Lily was sleeping peacefully and he was rising from the rocker to put her back in the bassinette.

When he pulled the linens back and crawled back into bed, Riza’s hand found his. 

“That’s a beautiful song,” she mumbled sleepily from her pillow.

Roy thanked her.  “It’s sort of like a lucky charm for me.  It makes me brave when I’m scared and soothes me when I’m upset.  I thought it might work for Lily, too.”

She yawned, laid her arm over his chest and commented that she’d like him to teach it to her sometime.  Soon enough, he heard her snoring again and he chuckled to himself.  Funny how that song used to be the only thing that could get him to fall asleep, when now it was the sound of his wife snoring beside him that did the trick.  Madame had told him later that she and Roy’s father had grown up with their mother singing it to them, and now he had passed it on to his own child.

“That song has been handed down the Mustang line for generations!”

Riza raised her head when his laughter woke her up.


End file.
